Vocals and guitar:
Piano instrument:
Guitar instrument:
Gone to Shiloh town
Nothing but my creations to offer
her—make me believe, then,
that she loves me, too,
some one that looks the way
she does has no business with me
in my current state;
well, i go back and forth
a-wondering, suffering without
her body being here, removed,
dear heart, from the stratosphere,
some plot in heaven that i
can’t understand, won’t get
there, anyhow, by making
demands—well, i ask for a sign,
some indication that she exists
in the lifetime that I resist.
well, your lot, in the after life,
is improved by what you do here
you can take it with you, and, dear me,
that’s what i’d do—carving out
a place for her while i’m here
but my one true love loves the
person that i am—made out
of years on end of solitude,
just a-thinking and a-wondering
how to prove life after
death, a noble ambition,
forged, i think, out of loneliness
would i push so hard, i ask,
if she was here and making me—
and the path ahead—complete?
she’s from a future that cares for her,
not some small minded quagmire
determined by parasites that
suck the life out of me and mine,
hording the wealth that she’d
define—make me whole—going
then, to Shiloh town, stamping
out his army will be the death
of me—fighting for my god-given
right, happiness with the
woman i love—existing in a world
of brotherly salvation—both
hands on the wheel that i incur,
driving to heaven, to be sure
so i build up, for good, the life
that waits for me—this is the dying
breath of the Confederacy,
well, she’ll see me now, and she’ll
see me then, a decorated soldier,
aiming, friend, to settle down